THE PUNISHER: SINS OF THE FATHERS
by BLAKKSTONE
Summary: This very short story was inspired by the 1989 Punisher movie starring Dolph Lundgren. The Punisher belongs to Disney and Marvel. This is based on characters created by screenwriter Boaz Yakin.
1. Chapter 1

**THE PUNISHER : SINS OF THE FATHERS**

''You're a good boy, Tommy. Grow up to be a good man. Because if not, I'll be waiting.''

Those words have haunted Thomas Franco for two and a half decades. During the worst period of his life. After he was abducted by the Yakuza. After he saw his father, Gianni Franco, once the most powerful Mafioso in the city, get killed.

By Frank Castle. The Punisher.

The traumatic experience served as an eye opener. He had to break the cycle of vengeance and carnage that destroyed so many lives. His. And Castle's.

Castle. Once a decorated cop. Until his wife, Julie, and two daughters, Felice and Annie, were killed by a car bomb. A bomb placed by Gianni Franco's assassins. Castle became the Punisher. He killed his way to revenge and beyond. And young Thomas – Tommy – watched Castle shoot his father.

There was one way to end this vicious cycle of vendettas.

Thomas Franco was fixing his tie in front of the mirror. He was a tall, dark skinned, dark haired White man in his mid 30s. That complexion came from his Sicilian origins. He kept in shape. Clean shaven. One thing he inherited from his father and his father's associates: always look your best. There was a knock on his door. It opened. A short-haired, well dressed, middle aged blonde White woman peaked in.

''It's time, Tom. They're waiting.''

''I'll be right out, Sam.''

And moments later, Thomas Franco stood in from of dozens of reporters who waited in silence. The Blonde woman from earlier stood by and nodded at Franco.

''Twenty years ago, I watched, helpless, as my father was gunned down. Some may have thought he had it coming. Others may have thought it was a tragedy. All I know is this: in a few short days, my cherished, privileged, sheltered life became a blood soaked, chaotic nightmare. It took me years to work past this. And to understand what must be done about it.''

Franco took a breath and continued.

''There is only one thing that can end the senseless violence in this city. The law. As your newly elected District Attorney, with the help of the head of the Major Crimes Task Force, Samantha Leary and many hard working people in the law enforcement community, we will make this city a safe environment for all those who live in this great metropolis! Here, on the steps of City Hall, I pledge to all of the city's inhabitants that I will do everything in my power to root out corruption and greed!''

Then, a thunderous gunshot resounded.

Samantha Leary pulled out her 9MM Glock and tackled Franco to the ground. Panic. Pandemonium. Then another large boom.

''Leary to all points! Where the Hell are those shots coming from?'' She yelled into the inside of her wrist.

''Berkowitz to Leary!'' Leary heard in here ear ''I can't see a shooter! Sounded like a .50 cal! Shooter could be a mile from here!''

''Find the shooter!'' Leary said.

Another shot was heard. More screams. More running. Franco had flashbacks. He was trying to keep it together.

''Tom! We have to move!''

Franco nodded.

Suddenly, a van appeared in front of City Hall. Half a dozen men in ski masks, armed with submachine guns, poured out and were taking aim at Franco and Leary before they could move.

More uniformed cops and plainclothes officers appeared, Glocks out.

Thunder boomed again. Six times.

And all of the masked men crumpled. Headless.

Soon, a tall, broad shouldered Black man in his 30s ran over to Leary and Franco.

''Are you guys okay?'' he asked.

''Yes. What the Hell happened, Berkowitz?'' Leary said.

''I don't know. But that shooter saved our asses, boss,'' Berkowitz said, ''and wherever those first shots were aimed at, it wasn't here.''

''God damn it,'' Franco said, ''this had to be deliberate! Today of all days!''

''Someone was trying to make a point,'' Leary said.

''Someone did make a point,'' Berkowitz said, ''Maybe a couple somebodies.''

Hours later, dozens of cops searched several high rises around City Hall. Then, a mile away, on a skyscraper rooftop, Berkowitz, Leary and Franco, along with several police officers were standing around a .50 cal sniper rifle. And a dead body. With a knife sticking out of his head.

''Here we go again,'' Leary said.

''This makes much more sense,'' Berkowitz said.

''Walk us through it, Detective Berkowitz,'' Leary said.

''A group of heavy hitters are sent to do a job,'' Berkowitz said, ''Probably to end the new D.A. or the head of Major Crimes. Or both. Except someone hit the hitters. Someone jumped the sniper. And then he took out the rest of the hit squad. Someone who figured there would be a threat. Someone with an expertise on ambushes and wiseguys.''

''Yeah,'' Franco said, ''Three guesses who that is.''

''We only need one,'' Leary said.

At the end of the knife's handle, a small skull was sculpted.

**NIGHT TIME, POLICE STATION**

Samantha Leary, Detective Berkowitz and Thomas Franco were drinking coffee in Leary's office.

Leary was looking at her colleagues. They had sent everyone else home. And they were looking at each other.

One thing connected them all. The Punisher.

Leary was partners with Jake Berkowitz. Frank Castle's former partner. Berkowitz had told Leary he was a recovering alcoholic and that Frank motivated him to get his act together and be a good cop again. Jake had since retired. He met a woman, Debra Harrelson. A single mother of a 10 year old boy. Three years later, he legally adopted the boy who wanted to take Jake's name. And become a cop like Jake. Hence Detective Steven Berkowitz.

''Okay,'' Berkowitz said, ''So we are pretty sure Castle shot those hitmen. Who sent those hitmen in the first place?''

''I think we are dealing with some former military guys,'' Leary said, ''Mercenaries. Not typical mob guys.''

''Someone sent those guys,'' Franco said, ''It was a risky movie, but also a loud and flashy one. We could have had heavy casualties.''

''Loud. Flashy. Violent,'' Berkowitz said.

''Freddie DeLeo Junior,'' Franco said.

The DeLeo family was associated with Thomas' father. Between the Punisher and the Yakuza led by the ruthless Lady Tanaka, most of the Mafia was dead. Most of the gangster's kids steered away from the family business. Except Freddie DeLeo Junior.

''That fuckin' prick,'' Franco said.

A new voice said: ''That's putting it mildly.''

They all turned towards the voice. A tall, bald Black man, in his 70s with a determined walk and determined eyes.

''Jake!'' Sam Leary said.

''Pop,'' Steven Berkowitz said, ''What the Hell are doing here in the middle of the night? Mom's gonna be so pissed.''

''Your mom said it was okay, kid!'' Jake said.

''Bullshit. You probably spent all day and evening and night watching the news and she threw your ass out!'' Steven said.

''Always knew you'd make a good detective!''

''What brings you here, Jake,'' Franco said.

''What else? Frank.'' Jake said.

Leary looked over at Jake. The old man had never given up on Frank Castle. Never. Despite everything.

''If DeLeo is his father's son,'' Franco said, ''He wants to make a mess and let everyone know he wouldn't back down from anyone. Even if it meant committing mass murder on national TV.''

''Sounds like him, Tom,'' Jake said, ''And if we figured it out-''

''Castle probably figured it out as well,'' Steven said.

''So we have to find DeLeo to try to prevent a bloodbath,'' Leary said, ''Homicide, Narcotics, Vice, Organized Crime, Major Crimes, even the Feds. Everyone must be in on this before it starts raining dead mobsters again.''

''I thought this Mafia stuff was over,'' Steven said.

''DeLeo Junior is old school, but smart,'' Leary said.

''Right,'' Jake said, ''He disappeared shortly after that mess with Lady Tanaka. Other gangs took over. Frank killed them all and that left a wide open field for some old style gangsters.''

''Even DeLeo knew he had to use strategy and prepare his return carefully,'' Leary said, ''In the last few years, he set up operations, evaded surveillance, bought a bunch of cops, judges…''

''And prosecutors,'' Franco said.

''And you cleared a few of them out,'' Steven Berkowitz said.

''We did some good work. But I'm sure we didn't get them all. Otherwise, DeLeo would be behind bars,'' Franco said, ''Come on, people. Let's get to work and find DeLeo and Castle.''


	2. Chapter 2

**SAME NIGHT, ELSEWHERE**

One hundred men.

That was the number of henchmen and mercenaries Frederico DeLeo Junior had on this estate.

One hundred men.

He'd bought this place through shell corporations and assumed names. He'd bribed or murdered or erased anyone or anything that could lead back to this place. A manor outside of The City bought back from some bankrupt rock star.

It was time for This Thing Of Ours to rise from the ashes of obscurity. After decades of the city being over-run with niggers, spics and gooks, it was time for some old-time mafiosos to make a comeback and bring back some order.

DeLeo was in an office in his compound, looking at a picture of his father. Killed by that Jap bitch. The same that kidnapped him and the kids of all the other bosses. None of the other kids wanted to be in the business and most of them even left town. Except two. Freddie Junior and Tommy Franco.

Who became a D.A. What a fucking joke. But his dad always told him, the Francos were arrogant cowards. They always thought they were better than everyone else.

A Franco as a D.A. Tommy's old man must be spinning in his grave. Then again, watching the Punisher gun down your father must really fuck with one's head.

The Punisher.

The guy that saved his life and wrecked it all at once. The one real threat that could bring DeLeo down. And the one guy that made his comeback possible by bringing down everyone else that could be in DeLeo's way.

Irony.

An explosion rocked the compound. Then another. Then another. DeLeo grabbed a walkie-talkie.

''What the fuck is going on?''

Another explosion. DeLeo hears a panicked voice on the other end.

''We're under attack!''

''No fuckin' shit! How is it!''

Another blast. Then, machine gun fire. Screams. More explosions.

''Someone fuckin' answer me, Goddamnit!''

Nothing. Nothing but sounds of war. Then he knew.

The Punisher. Here. It was the only explanation.

Explosions. Gunfire. Pain. Fear. It was all DeLeo could hear. For countless minutes or hours, it was chaos.

Then nothing. Silence.

It couldn't be over. Castle couldn't have killed his way through-

The solid oak doors exploded, sending a shockwave and splinters inside DeLeo's office.

And DeLeo saw him.

Nearly 6'6''. Large. Dressed in black leather. Black hair. Cold eyes. Holding an M-60 machine gun fitted with a 40MM Grenade Launcher.

''Freddie DeLeo Junior,'' a graveyard voice said.

''No…No…Goddamnit…''

''You should have known better. You know you can't hide from me. Nobody can.''

''Castle…''

''Castle is dead. I am the Punisher. You know that too.''

''Jesus Christ…''

The Punisher walked in. He let his machine gun hang on a sling.

''How…How did…'' DeLeo asked.

''It doesn't really matter, does it?''

The Punisher pulled out an impossibly long pistol. A modified Desert Eagle with a long compensator.

''Look…'' DeLeo said, ''We're really on the same side. I'm trying to bring some order. There's always gonna be gangsters and crime, might as well keep it controllable, no?''

''There's always going to be men like you, and I will always be there to kill them.''

Castle lifted his pistol.

''Fuck you, Castle,'' DeLeo spat angrily, refusing to beg, ''Fuck you and go the fuck to HELL!''

''I'm already in Hell. Men like you made sure of that.''

And a .357 Magnum bullet ended DeLeo's ambitions. And his life.

The Punisher let out a breath. And walked out.

**THE NEXT DAY**

**LATE EVENING**

Debbie Moore-Berkowitz was walking home after her Yoga class. She cut through the park as she always did despite the objections of her over-protective ex-cop husband and her son, currently a police detective. She always took this way home and absolutely nothing has happened to her. Not even a rainy day.

Over 20 years with Jake. And her baby boy, all grown up, who has found in Jake a better father than his biological one. He even took Jake's name after the adoption happened. It was a wonderful moment. Not a dry eye in the house. Jake cried the most. He was a tough and grumpy old man, but also a sweet and caring one.

It was chance to put Jake on her path when she was still a nurse, before she retired. He had already retired from the police and-

Something behind her. She felt a presence. Like she was being followed or watched. She refused to carry a gun, but she accepted a compromise. Pepper spray. She turned suddenly. Mace in hand. There was no-one there.

Maybe it was just paranoia. An overworked lizard brain.

She kept on walking home.

**The Punisher stood over the three unconscious and crippled would be muggers.**

The vigilante didn't have many friends. But Jake Berkowitz never stopped trying to help him. He never stopped watching on Jake and his family.

He owed him that much. Jake deserved his shot at happiness.

Speaking of friends, after getting rid of these muggers, he'd go visit another one.

**The Punisher was standing over a grave.**

He pulled a bottle from his jacket. It was fruit juice. He took a sip. At one time, it might have been scotch or whisky. But things changed.

His friend, Shake, a former actor who lost everything to his alcoholism. His disheveled demeanor and compulsion to speak in rhymes made him easy to underestimate. He was always on the street and was a precious informant. He stopped drinking years before his death. But the damage was done. Still, he was a good man. A good ally. A friend.

''Rest well, my friend.''

The Punisher set the bottle down. And he went back into the night.

There was always more work to do.

**THE END**

2019 is the 30th anniversary of the 1989 Dolph Lundgren Punisher movie. I enjoy it a great deal and this was an attempt to pay homage to that movie.


End file.
